Summer: Hopeless, Helpless
by ChronicMigraine007
Summary: Draco and Harry find themselves under the same roof over the summer after Draco is forced to get help from Dumbledore, and Harry's quite bored... HPDM, Drarry, 6th year.
1. Chapter 1

Draco Malfoy pulled the collar of his robes higher as he walked down Diagon Alley towards the Leaky Cauldron in a hopeless attempt to hide his face and distinctive platinum hair. Draco, thankfully, had found another method to stamp out the staring people in a crowd: glaring.

He scowled at a passing child, who had looked at him and smiled. _Smile no longer, plebian._

Draco likes to say that he had mastered the art of glaring at an early age, and that wouldn't be false. He enjoys the scampering away of his victims, the squeals of terror (especially on newbie first years at Hogwarts), and the frightened glances that he gets back, because it lets him know that they recognize his superiority.

As they rightfully should.

But now, Draco is too distracted to glare- too distracted by the weight on his shoulders. He had a private meeting with Dumbledore in five minutes, (and that made him feel grown up and responsible.) Draco had thought about just blowing up the whole place to get through, because the Alley was so packed, he wished he could just apparate already. He couldn't, obviously, because he wasn't of age.

But that didn't stop the Dark Lord from wanting him as a slave.

His thoughts were jumping around everywhere.

Draco rubbed his unmarred forearm in anticipation as he reached the Leaky Cauldron and sat down at a barstool. He tried hard to shoot nasty glares at the most haggard hags, but wasn't feeling it.

He did feel, however, a gnarly hand on his shoulder.

"Come, Mister Malfoy, I have a room open for us to chat in," Professor Dumbledore said.

Draco swallowed hard, but raised his head and pushed his chair away from the bar. He nodded to Tom the Barman, whom he found tolerable, and followed his Headmaster, who he was supposed to kill, up the stairs.

Headmaster Dumbledore stared at him above his half-moon glasses in a grandfatherly fashion, which frankly, Draco found extremely disconcerting. He expected to feel the prod of Occlumency in his mind, but Dumbledore just stared. And stared.

Draco cleared his throat, quietly alarmed and very uncomfortable under his scrutinizing stare. "Sir… I requested to meet with you today because the Dark Lord has come to me to ask of me a favor in exchange f-" His voice cracked ungracefully and Draco started again, "in exchange for the Dark Mark."

Dumbledore just nodded thoughtfully, and it made Draco want to bash his head against the wall. "Yes, I thought that would happen sometime soon. So, he asked you to kill me, has he not?"

Draco's eyes widened and his blonde eyebrows shot up. "Er… yes sir." What were you supposed to say to that?

Dumbledore nodded again and stroked his beard. "I assume you have come with an alternate plan," he said knowingly.

Draco twitched. It was absolutely maddening. He licked his dry lips.

"Yes sir. I would like to request protection for my family and myself in exchange for my services to the Order of the Phoenix."

Dumbledore nodded once more. "Yes, of course. You are a Malfoy, after all. Family is what matters the most. I admire that, my boy."

Draco's cheeks warmed a bit, and he guessed that was part of the grandfatherly charm. Dumbledore's eyes warmed a bit, too, and he smiled.

"Well then, my boy, you can start this weekend in fact! I have the perfect initiation opportunity for you."

Draco had a bad feeling about this.

_|~O.O~|_

It was raining hard in Little Whinging, Surrey, Harry noted duly. The rain pounded against the cold window panes and suddenly, Harry's scar flared up, causing him to jump and his muscles to tense. He sighed and set his burning forehead on the window, sniffling slightly and wiping his nose on the sleeve of his sweater.

It was the middle of June.

Harry closed his eyes and was on the brink of drifting off to sleep when he felt the window shake and heard a tapping. He jerked up and rushed to open the lock to let in Hedwig, who was carrying a bag of letters from the Ministry Post office. Finally.

After the death of Sirius Black, Harry had lost the last prospective guardian on his list of trusted people. He began to research more on his family and about how the wizarding world works. He learned so much, like how wizarding banking works, what rights heirs had access to, the history of Pureblood bigotry, and how wizarding courts worked, since he felt awfully dumb sitting in the 3,000 year old Wizengamot Court used to try thousands of killers over centuries (and one teenage boy who used the Patronus Charm in front of a squib and his muggle cousin).

Harry wanted to be informed, educated, and aware. He was tired of manipulations, white lies, and of being so dependent on Hermione for knowledge. He wanted to know everything.

That's why Harry Potter's poor owl had just arrived from the Ministry Post office with a bag of blocked letters from since he was a child.

He grabbed a fluffy white towel off the floor and set it on the floor of Hedwig's "nook," which was just a small, dark, cozy corner of his room containing Hedwig's food, a heater and fan that he got after exchanging five knuts for 10 euros.

He turned the heater on and bit his lip and he saw his snowy owl settle on the rapidly dampening towel. Flooded with guilt, he went to his loose floorboard and creaked it open, revealing a collection of books. He scanned the titles with his head tilted slightly to the right and found the book he needed: Ministry secrets for the average witch or wizard.

Harry flipped through the pages and reached the spell he had glanced over a few weeks back.

He disabled the Ministry tracking charm and hurried to Hedwig, to whom he sent a drying and extra warming charm.

"Thank you, Hedwig."

Hedwig hooted feebly and nibbled at her bacon.

Harry turned back to the bag on his bed and was about to open it when he remembered the standard precautions. He turned back to the floorboard and retrieved the proper spells. He steeled himself and said,

"Revale" Nearly fourty ordinary-looking letters flew out. Harry exhaled shakily and incanted the more detailed spells.

"Expiritum" Ten

"Denovso" Four

"Ipsumia" One.

He ran downstairs as quietly as possible, keeping his wand steady as the life- threatening letters floated in front of him. Passing the completely unaware Dursleys, who were watching the telly like a normal family, he used his free hand to snatch up an aluminium tin and raincoat and took his supplies to the rainy, cold backyard, where he hid behind the garden shed and sent an Incendio to the letters. They roared with the fire and a black wisp flew up from the flames.

Harry checked the time. He had 30 seconds before the temporary disabling charm would make the Ministry on high alert. He smothered the fire with the tin. He made sure his wand was secure in his waistband before he climbed out from behind the shed and brought his tin full of ashes to the garbage can on the corner of the property, smiling distractedly at the rustling bushes.

"Hello, Nymphadora, a bit cold and wet out for watch, don't you think?"

Tonks pushed herself out of the shrub, frowning disgruntledly as she pulled a stray twig out of her muddy brown hair.

"Well, it is my shift. I'm just doing my job."

Harry pulled a leaf off her jacket and agreed.

"Yeah, I guess that's what we're all trying to do at this point."

Tonks looked at the leaf in his hand and back up at Harry, who smiled a bit sadly and dropped the leaf. He took off his raincoat and handed to her, leaving him in his old blue sweater.

"Here, you need it." He walked back inside, his hands balled for warmth in the pockets of his jeans, and heard the leaves rustle again.

_|~O.O~|_


	2. Chapter 2

_|~O.O~|_

A week later, it was hot outside. Not hot-warm, but scalding, no wind, let's-fry-our-breakfast-on-the-concrete-on-the-driveway hot. Harry laid on his bed upside-down, his body hanging off the edge, and was reading the news on Dudley's old Palm Pilot.

He dragged the stylus down the page and reached for his third lollipop when he suddenly heard steps thundering up the stairs that were approaching his bedroom. He initiated his emergency protocol and pulled the lollipop out of his mouth with a smack, laid it on a tissue and hid it under his bed. He ushered Hedwig into her cage, locked the padlock, hid his wand, stuffed the Palm Pilot inside the cover of his pillowcase, and arranged his bed, pretending to look busy in nearly three seconds flat.

Dudley threw open the door and narrowed his eyes. Harry tried to look as pathetic as possible.

"Mum's been callin you for ages." He looked around the room, attempting to find something freakish to tell Vernon about, but couldn't.

"Oh, okay, I'll be right down then," Harry said unconcernedly.

With effort, Dudley turned around to heavily trudge to his room, the closest destination possible. Harry rolled his eyes at the empty doorframe and left through it, sending an apologetic glance to Hedwig on the way.

"Boy! Come down here this instant!" Aunt Petunia shrieked from the kitchen.

Harry winced at the piercing voice and said "Alright, Aunt Petunia, I'm coming, I'm coming."

Petunia scowled at him once he arrived. "Don't sass me, young man. Today, Stacy and Rose are coming for tea, so prepare the lawn for their arrival. You best be done by 1:00, you hear?"

Harry inwardly groaned _(very loudly)_ , but said "Of course, Aunt Petunia."

She ushered him out of the kitchen and pushed Harry out the French doors that led to the backyard. Once she shut the doors, Harry actually groaned. What about his lollipop upstairs? Hedwig?

The heat was getting to him after only one minute of being outside in the 12:00 sun. He went to the garden shed and reveled in the shade, but realized he had to get to work if he wanted to be done before one. He started with the lawn mower, a standard shiny red one, and pulled on the cord to rev the engine. One, two, three, four times. He forgot to check the fluid.

That's okay, it's full anyways. He pushed hard on the cart-like mower and felt his muscles working. Finally, at sixteen, he was getting some definition. It made him feel like a man.

He kept pushing and moving and working until he couldn't feel his abs, legs, or arms anymore. It felt strangely good, but the sun was killing him.

The searing heat burned his back and he could almost feel the sunburn and tan lines forming. He shuddered. Making sure Miss Number Two wasn't watching, he quickly slipped his shirt off his back and opened the hose, letting in cool water and pouring it over his back to wash away his sweat. He balled up his shirt and wiped it across his forehead.

Somewhere in the bushes, Draco Malfoy readjusted himself.

Being Harry Potter wasn't easy.

_|~O.O~|_

Draco was regretting it. He was regretting it so much. The moment those dreaded words came out of the Headmaster's stupid mouth, he screamed inside. _Anyone but him, please, anyone but the scarhead!_

Five (5) weeks as some sort of creepy spy that slinks around Harry Potter's residence WITHOUT magic OR apparition. Draco was going to lose it. He knew he was starting to lose it when Harry Potter took off his shirt.

God help him. Those abs. He fanned himself and mentally cursed his thick robes and Malfoy dignity. It was dry hot outside.

He had been watching Potter for nearly an hour then, and it was dull work, but strange. He was- well- ordinary. He didn't practice his sparring or do anything visibly illegal. He did what he was told and listened to the degradations of his relatives like a good dog.

One thing Draco did like about his new "job" was his new invisibility cloak. It could only be used for a small amount of time, however, before it had to be dipped in an invisibility potion, but other than that, it was absolutely marvelous. He thought of how jealous Pansy would be if he showed her his new invisibility cloak and he just knew she would complain about the drab outfits that the Death Eaters had to wear and ruin the whole atmosphere.

But that's Pansy for you.

Draco stared at the ladybug he had been staring at for the past five minutes before he remembered why he was there.

Right. Stare at Potter. Draco sighed.

_|~O.O~|_

Harry knew he was being watched. He could tell by the constant rustle of the bushes, grunts of pain, and loud breathing in of the arid air.

The first few weeks, it was disturbing, but after time, he made it a game to find out who was in the bushes stalking him. It was entertaining.

Harry laid on his bed again, his feet on the headboard, and sucked on his lollipop, cherry flavored. He stared at the ceiling, then at his toes, then at Hedwig, then at the ceiling again. He sighed. Could summer be any more boring?

What he would do for some excitement around there…

Harry grinned and looked out the window. The bushes were rustling.

He pulled out his lollipop and stuck it in again, then slunk downstairs and out of the double doors. Harry took a deep breath in and reveled in the crisp air.

He laid on the carefully trimmed grass and looked to the sky.

"So," Harry started around his cherry lollipop and heard the rustling freeze. He grinned even wider. "I wonder who's on guard duty today…"

He flipped onto his stomach and narrowed his eyes suddenly at the unassuming bushes, enjoying this game.

Inside the bushes, Draco was sweating, frozen, and watched helplessly as Potter, with his stupid lollipop, came closer and closer to his hiding place.

Harry thought aloud. "Hmm… It looks like you're new. Don't worry, I won't bite." He flashed his red-tinged teeth at the bush and it quivered.

He slinked closer until he was face to face with the bush. He stood up, dusting himself off, and faced the bush like a man. He drew his wand.

Draco stiffened and slipped out his own, which was absolutely useless unless he wanted a ministry letter. He cursed Dumbledore (very loudly) inside.

"Come out, before I hex you." Harry ordered like an Auror. Yes, he enjoyed this very much.

Draco had no choice. He pulled the invisibility cloak tight around him and stepped out of the bushes.

Harry squinted at the bushes, which just rumbled, pulled out his lolly, and said, "Ah, I see. Well, not really, haha! Get it? But I see. It seems as though you are in league with the illegal vigilante group, the (he whispers this part) Order of the Phoenix and its leader, Albus Dumbledore!"

An innocent muggle that had been taking a walk stopped at the teenage boy that was shouting to a bush and stared. Harry turned and stared awkwardly back until she turned and walked faster in the way she came.

Draco raised an eyebrow at the display and said daringly, "I am right here, Potty, not in the bushes anymore."

Harry's wand arm snapped up again and his eyes widened at a spot a good foot away from where Draco was standing.

"Malfoy?! What are you doing here? When did you join the Order? Why? Since when have you been watching me?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Hold on, Potter. I'd prefer this over a cuppa, if you don't mind."

Harry straightened. He almost forgot he was an adult.

"Of course, right this way."

He led Malfoy to the parlor and, nodded to Petunia. "Hello, Aunt Petunia, this is Draco Malfoy, and we're just having a cup of tea and a little chat since he was found hiding in your prized butterfly bushes."

Draco nodded at Petunia as well and held in a snort when he saw Petunia clutch her chest, eyes wide.

"What?"

Draco thought it an appropriate time to introduce himself a bit more eloquently, since this "Petunia" character seemed like somebody his mother would speak to in society meetings.

"Hello, Miss, my name is Draco Malfoy, of the Ancient and Noble Malfoy family of North France. Enchanted to meet you." He stuck out his hand and, when she dazedly took it, he bowed over it and let it go.

"Now if you don't mind, your nephew and I need to have a chat. May we use your parlour?"

Petunia nodded, still shocked, but said "No funny business in there, you hear me, boy?"

"Of course not, Aunt Petunia. I'll just make some tea."

"Don't bother, there's some on the stove."

Petunia looked to be more lenient with Draco, since he was a "proper gentleman," so Harry took advantage of that and said, "Why don't we head up to my room? We'll have tea there."

Draco agreed and so did Petunia, reluctantly. She headed off to the living room to resume her dusting and Harry grabbed two cups of green tea, remembering to dump extra sugar in his.

Dudley was on a diet again.

He led Malfoy upstairs to his room (how weird was that?) and opened the door. Hedwig was still asleep in her nook and Draco quickly took in his room. Bookshelf on the right, bins of old toys on the left, a twin-sized bed, a desk and chair, and an old rug that hid a loose floorboard. He approved privately, because it was all practical, and that scared him.

Harry sat on his bed and crossed his legs, and motioned for Malfoy to do the same. Wrinkling his nose slightly, Draco lifted his robes and perched on the bed like it was some sort of illness.

"Alright then," Harry began, "I've already deciphered that you are in the Order, probably because you made a deal with Dumbledore. So why are you here?"

Draco felt a bit indignant at Potter's assumption that he was going to answer his questions, but he answered them anyways because he had nothing better to do. It was better than standing in a bush for the rest of his shift.

He blew on his tea and sipped it. "Headmaster Dumbledore made an agreement with me. In exchange for protection, I would serve the Order. That's why I'm here."

"For how long have you been on patrol?"

"Two days so far."

Harry could tell by the way his nose crinkled and his mouth turned down that he didn't want to be here, and that was clear. So he tried to make it as easy on him as possible. Why? Because. He was bored.

"Okay. Why do you need protection anyways?" Harry thought about what he just said and snorted.

Draco rolled his eyes at Potter's display of immaturity. He guessed that was what happened when one is cooped up in a house all summer like a chicken. One goes mad.

"Because, I'm being hunt down by the Dark Lord and he's going to kill me once he finds me."

Harry took a large gulp of his tea and burned the back of his throat. "Well, I guess we're in the same boat then. Welcome to the club."

Draco wondered how many times he would be able to roll his eyes until he turned into Mad-Eye Moody.

Harry thought for a while, sipping his tea. "I don't think there's a point in you staying in the bushes. You could stay in the guest room here, maybe."

Malfoy nearly dropped his tea in shock. "What?"

"I said-"

"I know what you _said_ but _why_?"

Harry shrugged. "Why not? I get so bored here. There's nothing to do. I've already read all the course books, done the homework, and learned about the wizarding world."

Draco hesitated. A warm room didn't sound so bad. He _would_ still be guarding…

"I'll think about it, Potter."

Harry wasn't satisfied by that response. "Come on, Malfoy, don't be a spoilsport!"

Draco didn't know what that meant, but said "Oh, alright, I suppose I'll stay."

Harry beamed. "Great! Let's tell Petunia."

A minute later, they sat on Harry's bed once again.

"Well, that didn't work. You could just stay in my room, then."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Are you trying to get me in your bed, Potter?"

He smirked. "Maybe. I'll sleep in Hedwig's nook, if you'd like."

Draco thought about it. "Yes, okay."

"Okay."

There was silence.

Harry spoke again.

"I was thinking of getting a summer job."

Draco sat up a little. A summer job? "Where would you do that without any magic?"

Harry shook his head. Malfoy was hopeless. "Er. The muggle world?"

The skin between Draco's eyebrows creased and drew Harry's eyes there. Harry couldn't help but be hyperaware of the smallest characteristics of Malfoy when he was so close to him.

Harry helped him out. "I was thinking about in a convenience store. I know the manager of a bakery and he would love some help. You could join me."

Draco's response came flying out of his mouth before Harry ended his last sentence.

"No. Absolutely not."

"Why not?" Harry said innocently.

Draco scowled. "I will not degrade myself to working to serve muggles in a muggle bakery."

Harry scowled as fiercely back. "Malfoy. These muggles that you are talking about are extremely resourceful, smart, kind, and hardworking. They've found a way around everyday struggles that would be easier with magic and created their own magic with electricity. They're not animals, they're just like you and me and there's nothing I can say to bigoted, close-minded pureblood supremists except to open your mind to new ideas and ignore what your ancestors have integrated into your brain and just think for yourself!"

Mafloy's anger flared and his prim English accent faltered, leaving him with a slight French accent. "If you think I'm one of those pureblood idealists, you're more than wrong. I have left my family to serve Albus Dumbledore, the head of the Light and lover of all things muggle. I'll prove it to you. I'll take the job!"

Harry sat back and smirked in full, and it was only then when Draco realized what he did. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

Harry got up from the bed and extended a hand to Draco. "Let's go see Mr. Anderson."

 **Hey! I'd like to thank THEGeekofcourse1 for the feedback and Skywroe as well as sassygirl1864 for giving my story a chance. (Sassygirl, your username reminded me strongly of grav3yardgirl on youtube. You should totally check out her channel!)**

 **I've written out the whole story (and learned from my mistakes in old stories and such *coughHarrietcough*) so I've lifted a weight off my shoulders and now I just gotta update!**

 **Thanks, y'all!**

 **CM007**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Totally forgot! I'm not Jo Row.**

 **I dis-claim my life, my job, my first born child, etc...**

Draco couldn't believe this was happening. One minute he was a house guest of Harry Potter, and the next, he was getting a job at a muggle bakery. Not that he was bigoted or anything.

Mr. Anderson surprised him. Instead of being a portly "muffin man," he was tall and waifish, with bright eyes and greying hair. He shook Potter's hand.

"Hello there, Harry, how are you? And who's your friend?" Draco blanched. Friend?

"I'm doing great! This is Draco Malfoy, he's a distant cousin from France on my Father's side," he replied without skipping a beat.

Mr. Anderson extended a hand to Malfoy as well, saying "Bonjour, Je'mappelle Monsieur Anderson." _(Hello, I'm Mr. Anderson)_

Draco, surprised, took his hand and shook it firmly. "Enchanté. Je appris l'anglais à l'école, mais on ne peut tromper Harry et nous ne pouvons parler en français." ( _Nice to meet you. I learned english at school, but let's trick Harry by speaking only in French)_

Harry surprised them all. "Je peux vous entendre tous les deux." _(I can understand you two)_

Draco slipped up. "I didn't know you could speak French!" He kept a french accent for show.

"Only a bit, I took a year of it in primary school and stuck with Spanish for the rest."

Draco nodded. "Veo." ( _I see_ in Spanish)

Mr. Anderson laughed at the display and said, "Well, why have you two come here for? Other than to showcase your impressive knowledge of languages."

Harry piped up. "We would like to start working here as a part time job for the duration of the summer."

Mr. Anderson clapped his hands together. "Well, that's wonderful! Bianca is out sick today and we didn't want her contaminating the food, so she's on paid leave for two weeks with the flu. The only person back cooking is me, and I could use some help."

"Okay, we're ready," Harry said, ignoring the traumatized look on Draco's face. They were going to bake? That's for women and house elves!

Almost as if he projected the thought, Harry turned to him sharply as Mr Anderson led them towards the back. He whispered, "No te quejes. Este trabajo es importante para su carácter." ( _Don't you complain. This work is important for your character.)_

Draco grumbled and rolled his eyes. "Bossy."

Harry just smirked and imagined Draco Malfoy in an apron covered with flour.

Yes, he liked that very much.

_|~O.O~|_

Three days later, Draco was quietly enjoying his new job.

Sure his hands got dirty and it was manual labor, but Potter was (he hated to say it) charming, in his own way. The moment Mr Anderson would turn his back, Potter stuck his fingers into the bowl of chocolate and licked them. Draco felt an uninvited flush on his skin (curse pale skin) when Potter would smirk his stupid, adorable smirk.

It was infuriating and utterly delightful, this strange feeling.

Every night and day was looked forward to. Draco would lay in the bed, his back facing the wall and front facing Harry's body on the floor, and he would just lay there, thinking about another's body where he laid. Harry's quiet, steady breaths often lulled him to sleep, knowing he would be protected with someone who had been fleeing death his whole life.

One night in particular, Draco was exhausted after a taxing day of baking. They raced each other upstairs and, after Harry won, they laid in bed, Harry on the middle of the rug, and laughed breathlessly until they could laugh no longer. They turned to each other and Harry smiled infectiously, leaving Draco to smile helplessly back. He was hopeless.

Just then, Hedwig flew in with yet another dead snake, and Harry frowned at her like a disappointed mother.

"Hedwig, how many times do I have to tell you that snakes are off bounds?"

Hedwig hooted innocently and Harry sighed, pointing at her nook. She happily took her prized catch to her cot and attacked it vigorously.

Both Harry and Draco winced at the bloody towels and sheets on the floor.

"Well, there goes my bed."

Draco frowned, thinking. "You could sleep here, I'm sure we could improvise," he said, his Pureblood manners seeping through.

Harry beamed at him. "Really? Thanks, Malfoy!"

He grabbed an extra sheet from the supply closet out in the hall and came back in the room, where Draco had laid with his feet pointing towards the headboard. Harry tilted his head in confusion.

"For more room," Draco supplied.

Harry let out a barely audible, "Oh" and set up the bed. He laid down and stared at the ceiling, as he was fond of doing these days, then turned and looked to Malfoy's feet.

Perfect feet. Why was he so surprised?

He blew on them, bored, and watched the toes twitch. He grinned maliciously and blew on them again, watching his toes contract again, stronger.

"Potter, what the fuck are you doing to my feet?"

"Me? Nothing!" he said before blowing them again.

"Potter!" Draco said, trying to hold in his laugh at the ticklish feeling.

"Whaat? I'm trying to sleep here!"

Harry then felt fingers on his the bottom of his feet and he jerked his feet into the safety of the thin blanket.

"Oh no you don't," Malfoy said, and dove into the sheet, attacking his toes mercilessly.

"No! No! Malfoy, agh!" Harry drowned in laughter as Draco climbed up his body, tickling his most sensitive spots.

The laughter, unfortunately, woke Vernon, who didn't know of Draco's new residence in his house. Harry gasped and his green eyes, filled with tears of laughter, found Draco's silvery ones in the dense darkness, which had widened. He quickly laid back down, his head next to Harry's, and Harry pushed him under the blanket, leaving Malfoy under the covers and hidden. Harry turned on his side towards Draco and made sure the blanket fully covered Malfoy's body before closing his eyes and feigning sleep, just in time for Vernon to thunder up the stairs and check his room.

"It was just Dudley's telly again, he left it on."

Harry exhaled in relief as Vernon's footsteps silenced and he left the stairs. Harry pulled back the covers and stared at Malfoy, who stared back until they both smiled in maniacal relief.

That was close.

"Now what?" Harry whispered into the darkness.

Draco hit him with a pillow. "Now we sleep, stupid. It's dark and I'm tired. Being happy is hard on the facial muscles."

Harry grinned. "I think not. Let me introduce you to the Palm Pilot."

"The what?"

 **Yo I just wanted to let you know that this will be a relatively short fanfic (in all, 7,000 ish words) so it wont go on too long, unless I decide to make a sequel about 6th year.**


	4. Chapter 4

_|~O.O~|_

"Wait, _what_?"

It was the third time Harry had explained how the stylus worked, but he wasn't getting frustrated, because the expressions on Draco's close face were hypnotic and he would repeat himself a thousand times to see those expressions for the rest of his life.

"You just press the quill-like object onto the screen and drag upwards to scroll the page. The blue words are words that lead you to another webpage."

"But-"

"Here, maybe it would be easier to just show you."

Draco watched, fascinated, as Potter pressed the screen too rapidly to follow along with. He stared as a Youtube video popped up.

"Wha-"

Harry slapped his hand over Draco's mouth and said, "Just listen, Draco."

Draco's eyes crossed to look at Harry's hand and he licked it.

"Ew!" Harry said, wiping his hand off on his old shirt. Draco smirked.

Harry pulled out his earphones, connected them, and stuck one in his left ear. He gave the other to Draco.

"You don't expect me to stick that tiny little thing in my ear. What if it gets stuck in there?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "It won't, trust me."

Draco looked at him straight in the eyes. "Okay then. But you have to put it in."

Harry ignored the flush climbing up his neck as he pushed a lock of silver hair out of the way before gently inserting the earpiece into Draco's (quite red) right ear. Harry rearranged Draco's hair and then turned abruptly to the Palm Pilot, as if he just realized what he was doing.

He hit play and suddenly, sound flooded Draco's ear. He jumped, frightened, and glared at Harry when he burst into laughter.

He looked back at the hand controller, or whatever it was called, and there were moving pictures on the screen. One waved at him.

He gasped. "Can they see us?" he whispered to Harry.

One busty girl winked at him and blew a kiss.

Harry laughed again. "No, that's just the camera. It's like a wizarding photograph, but longer and it usually makes a story. It's called a video. This one's about a guy who ate a green pickle and barfed it all over his girlfriend, so now he's single."

Draco stared at the screen in confusion. "Why would somebody sing about that?"

Harry shrugged. "I dunno. It's a nice beat, though. Let's dance."

"What?"

"Come on, let's dance!" Harry dragged a protesting Draco up from the bed and, securing his earphones, did the sprinkler. Draco just shook his head at him.

" _Oh, my giiiirlfriennnnd, she dumped my SORRRY AASSS, yeah my GIRRRLLFRIENNND she dumped by SORRY ASSS over a pickle."_

Harry laughed and looked at Draco " _But it was a groooss pickle, a short, thin wimpy pickleeee"_

Draco snorted and sang along. _"Yeah it was a gross, short, thin, wimpy pickle,"_

" _And that's why my girlfriend dumped my SORRY ASS!" (_ **1)**

_|~O.O~|_

Draco tried not to think about how fast the summer was slipping away from him, and with that, Harry, so naturally, he busied himself with other things, like looking through Harry's room.

Harry had just stepped into his room after a shower and saw Draco's butt in the air.

"Uh, Draco? What are you doing?" Draco got up from his position under Harry's bed and hit the back of his head on the way up.

Rubbing his head, he said sheepishly, "I'm just exploring…"

Harry smiled at his expression. "You want to help me sort out letters?"

"Sure," Draco said, and blushed as Harry easily slipped his arm under the bed and retrieved the sack Draco was trying to retrieve before.

"Brace yourself," Harry said before he dumped the entire bag of letters on the rug. But they kept on coming. Harry laughed. "Oops! It must've been an extendable bag."

The letters flowed out of the bag until they had a pile nearly as tall as Draco in the middle of the room.

Draco groaned. This would take forever.

He sat down with Harry on the cleanest-looking portion of the rug and began on the letters, hyperaware of Harry's knee brushing against his own. He looked at Harry's knee and then at Harry, who looked back at him and smiled softly, making Draco's heart do strange things.

He looked down again as he reached for the first letter, his hair slipping out from behind his ear to hide his smile. He was hopeless.

Harry read the first letter aloud. It was from ten years ago.

 _Hello, Mr. Harry_

 _My name is Caesura and I am 7 years old. My mommy said that I shud owl you bcuz she does not like constent fangriling. I dont now what that means but it is a big word and my daddy says that I am a big girl so I now this stuff. I think you are very breve bcuz you fite the bad man. I lov you so much._

 _From,_

 _Caesura Jenaomi_

Harry smiled so wide his face might've fallen off if Draco didn't say "Well that was cute and all, but your face is in danger of falling off."

Harry turned to him and gave him a huge smile. "Isn't this great? These are real people with real stories! Let's reply to them!"

Draco sighed. "Oh, please. This girl is in her seventh year somewhere in the world and she'll be mortified if she sees your response to something she sent when she was seven!"

It was fruitless, as Harry had already started on the reply. Draco read it over his shoulder.

 _Hello, Caesura!_

 _The ministry had been blocking my letters, so I only just got this. I really appreciate the support and love from everyone! Your handwriting was adorable, and I love the "i's" with the flower dots! J_

 _I am working hard on staying alive, at this point, because Voldemort (yes, you can say it too) is stronger than ever. The ministry finally opened their eyes and now there's widespread panic, but I'm just here to let you know that I'm working on fixing this and letting people feel safe again._

 _Thank you for the letter!_

 _Harry James Potter_

"What'd you think?" Harry inquired, looking behind his shoulder. His breath caught as he saw Draco's face only inches away from his own. Draco leaned infinitesimally closer. Harry could see the dark flecks of grey in his eyes, which had just turned down to his lips-

The front door of the Dursley residence slammed open they heard Petunia scream. Harry jerked away and breathed again. Ushering Draco into his closet, he wrenched the door open and raced downstairs, his hand on his concealed wand, prepared for a death eater ambush. He reached the end and ran into the foyer, where he saw Dudley bloodied up on the couch, whimpering and clutching his arm. He sighed.

"Aunt Petunia, is Uncle Vernon home yet?"

Petunia was rustling in the kitchen to dampen a washcloth, a worried, anxious expression on her face.

"No, he'll come home in two hours time."

Harry ran upstairs again and grabbed Draco as well as a book on healing and his Ministry book. He explained what happened on the way and Draco was unusually quiet.

He disabled the tracking spell and set a timer for half an hour, then got to work. He kneeled down in front of Dudley as Draco flipped through the healing book for a medical scanning spell.

"Here. Expiritu Probleies"

Harry smiled at him in thanks and scanned Dudley. A broken arm and minor bruising.

"So," Harry said mildly, "who beat you up today?"

Dudley scowled at him and sent a dirty look at his wand and at Draco, who was watching the healing process fascinatedly.

"Shut up, freak. And keep your pointy stick to yourself."

Draco looked up at Dudley sharply and narrowed his eyes. "You shut it, ungrateful brat. Harry's helping you."

Dudley sized Draco up with a scrutinizing look and a sneer. Draco was painfully reminded of himself.

"And who are you, another freak? Wait till Dad hears about this, he'll flip! Hey, Mum! Harry's got a boyfriend!"

Draco stood up faster than you could say armadillo and leaned in close to Dudley.

"Maybe he does."

Dudley made a face and scrunched up his nose, leaning away. "Ew! Queer! MUM!"

Harry looked at Draco, amused, and said, "Don't be stupid, Dud, chill out. At least wait until your hairline fracture has mended."

"I don't want any freak magic in me! Get it away!"

Draco spoke up. "Well, you are a squib, so that's unlikely to ever happen."

Harry shot an inquisitive glance at Draco, who nodded.

"Mu- Muggleborns are descended from squibs of pureblood families. With crossing over, genes exchange information and if two squibs have offspring, enough magic can make a very powerful muggleborn. I read it in your closet," Draco added for good measure.

"You what? MUM!"

Petunia came in with a damp washcloth and aspirin. "What is it, Duddykins?"

"THERE'RE QUEERS! EVERYWHERE!"

Petunia frowned and checked his temperature. "Darling, you should rest a bit. It looks like you're running a fever. Boy, go get him some bacon, will you?"

Harry stared at her, bewildered. "At 8:00 at night?"

She shot him a look and stuck her hands on her bony hips. "Yes. Now."

Draco got up. "I'll go. Harry's the mediwizard here anyways."

Petunia pursed her lips at the uncommon term, and Harry got up.

"No, it's alright, I'll do it. I can't do anything else without bruise paste, and those will just heal with time." He told Petunia to wash off the cuts with a gentle hand and left to the kitchen, Draco following.

Harry pulled out the bacon from the freezer and got to work, pouring oil into the pan. While waiting for it to heat up, he turned to Draco and smiled. He seemed to be doing that quite often.

"How long do you have until your shift ends?"

Draco ran his fingertips across the sparkling clean counter. "One more week."

Harry's smile turned painful and he turned back to the bacon. "You do know you're welcome to stay here longer."

Draco frowned. "I couldn't do that. I must already be overstaying my visit."

Harry turned back to Draco. "Oh, come on, Draco. I'm not that bad of a host, am I?" he said, playing the right cards carefully.

"No! Of course not!" Draco added quickly, "It's just that, well, aren't you getting tired of this?"

Harry frowned. "Tired of what, you?" Draco cleared his throat nervously and ran his hand through his perfectly laid hair, mussing it up and leaving one strand standing.

Harry reached up and smoothed the hair down again when he didn't answer. Draco blushed. "Well?"

"I-" He hesitated, and wondered if he should tell the truth. He bit his lip.

Harry's eyes followed the movement, then looked up at Draco, who was staring at him intensely. He got closer-

The oil popped loudly and splattered on Harry's hand.

"Agh, fuck!" Draco whipped out his wand and disabled the tracking spell before incanting a cooling charm. The tension was thick in the air. Harry grabbed a bag of ice and set it on his hand, frustrated by the constant interrup-

Draco turned him around and set his hands on Harry's waist. "We are going to do this." Harry's breath caught in his throat and his heart pumped hard in his chest. He licked his lips and looked at Draco through his lashes, noting how dark those silver flecks in his eyes and faint the freckles across the bridge of Draco's nose were. Harry looked back into Draco's eyes, and his expression was intense.

Harry's world turned and tipped as Draco's lips collided with his. A waterfall of emotions cascaded down: relief, happiness, love… Harry deepened the kiss and wrapped his arms around Draco's neck, bringing him closer. He could feel Draco's body on his own, wondering if Draco's heart was pounding as hard as his, or if he was feeling anything akin to the hot fire of desire that had settled deep in his gut.

Draco sunk into the sensuousness of Harry's soft lips, warm and yielding body, and wet tongue, surrounding himself in the smell of Harry and the taste of his cherry lollipops. He felt a tingle shoot down his spine as their bodies touched, leaving his head light.

Harry couldn't breathe. He pulled back and opened his eyes slowly just in time to see Draco's eyelids flutter. He was panting.

He couldn't believe he had reduced Draco Malfoy to such a tangle of emotions. Harry dragged his fingers through Draco's hair and smiled as he felt his shudder.

"It looks like I caught myself a boy-who-lived," Draco spoke, his voice rough.

Harry laughed breathlessly and slapped his arm playfully. "Shut up."

The corner of Draco's mouth tugged upward, leaving him with a half-smile, and Harry's stomach writhed. He pressed his free arm against it, and the movement didn't escape Draco's notice.

"What's the matter? Is your stomach hurting?"

"Not exactly," Harry blushed and turned towards the bacon and over-heated oil, trying to hide his burning face. "I'm just all fluttery."

Draco laughed. "Well, nice to know I provoke such fluttery emotions. Damn Potter, you're a butterfly."

Harry turned to him, his cheeks still flushed and eyes still bright, and raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

"A butterfly."

_|~O.O~|_

After that, they left their relationship secret, which was both thrilling and frustrating at once. Draco had to go back to the Malfoy safe house provided by the Order and, with the help of Sirius's old mirror, they communicated frequently. At Hogwarts, it was all night-time business. It was entertaining to Hermione, who most likely knew what had happened and needed no explanation, especially when they would pretend to fight in the halls and, hours later, could be found in a broom cupboard or in the Slytherin Dorms.

The secret smiles, fights in the hallways, and nudges under tables kept them alive.

 **A/N: (1)- Aight. There is no such a song, but I'm fearing copyright.**

 **Also, earphones like the modern kinds werent created until years after 1997 (when the real HP is set) but its fanfiction, so all is well.**

 **That's the end of the story! Let me know if you would consider a sequel!**

 **Muchas gracias, y adios!**

 **CM007**

 **PS: to all the "Harriet Potter: A Cinderella Story" readers out there, I'll update soon. Thank God for Winter Break, and HAPPY CHRISTMAS!**

 **HAPPY HOLIDAYS, Y'ALL**


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